


Where Grass Meets Sand, I am Home

by devils_trap



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, actual mild melds, mind melding hesitation?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devils_trap/pseuds/devils_trap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Typically after the brief Vulcan courtship, mates are melded. We are currently three months, thirteen days and six hours into our relationship, which is longer than most Vulcans go in a relationship without melding. It is more than likely that he was uncertain as to why we are in a relationship and yet not bonded."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Grass Meets Sand, I am Home

Coming together wasn't intentional. If you sat down Leonard McCoy even now, six months into his relationship with Spock, he would flounder for a bit before eventually admitting that, no, he hadn't a single clue how they came together. Just that they fit. 

Hell, McCoy hadn't even been sober when he asked Spock out to dinner. Neither had Spock, but that wasn't the point.

They were enjoying each other's company one night in McCoy's quarters, riding out the hours until Jim was fit to leave his quarters and resume command. The damn idiot didn't know how to keep his nose out of trouble and ended up with a concussion that left him unable to lead for a solid four days. The vertigo he got upon standing was so intense that he had retired early that night. Put out, McCoy invited Spock back to his room on a whim and the Vulcan agreed.

It took a little coaxing to get Spock to drink the chocolate milk, but at last he relented and took the cool beverage. And another, much to his later chagrin. But at the moment, Spock had the smallest of smiles on his face and his shoulders were more relaxed than Leonard had ever seen them.

"I must admit, Doctor--"

"--Leonard--"

"Leonard, yes, your name is Leonard...what was I saying?"

Leonard snorted and swirled his drink in his glass. "Admitting somethin' or whatever."

"Oh, yes. Yes. I must admit that this drink has had some...effect on me."

Leonard laughed now, loud and open. He missed the way Spock's eyes twinkled at the sound in the lowlight. "I noticed!"

Spock leaned back in his chair and smiled in his Vulcan way, in his eyes and eyebrows and the light quirk of his lips. "I also must admit that I am enjoying our outing together, Do-- _Leonard_. I believe this is the longest we have gone without arguing."

"Y'know what?" Leonard shot up out of his chair and patted Spock on the shoulder, drink sloshing onto his pants. "I am, too! In fact, I think we should have dinner together tomorrow to see if we can replicate," a pause to gesture between them, "this. Say here tomorrow at 1700?"

Spock watched the Doctor's hands for a moment before reaching up and lightly touching them. "I will be here, Leonard."

After that, they began going out more regularly. Their arguments against one another slowly evolved into arguments against Jim. And with both of them against Jim, the Captain caved more times than not. Once they got passed how emotionally charged McCoy was and how emotionally suppressed Spock was, they realized just how alike they were. Both highly driven men, exceptional at their jobs, stubborn as mules and passionate about everything in their own ways.

God knew why or how, but McCoy loved the green-blooded bastard and would do anything for him. Anything--stay up for 48 straight hours, spending half the time piecing his mate back together and the other half fretting at his bedside, posted like a mother hen with no other purpose than to croon her chick; learning how to make and eating that damn Vulcan plomeek soup just because it made Spock smile inwardly; learning to live with the intense temperature difference between them, and even craving it subconsciously, complaining about the chill in Sick Bay and the lack of warmth provided by his uniform.

Hell, if he could, Leonard would offer an organ to sustain his partner. He wouldn't even hesitate to offer his life for Spock. 

Nothing was out of bounds between them.

Except, maybe...mind melds.

\- - -

The first time Spock asked, it was close to their second month together. An away mission had gone awry, as was commonplace for the crew of the Enterprise, and the Captain, as well as Spock, had returned injured. McCoy was already running on fumes, spending most of the night before vaccinating two thirds of Engineering against Levodian Flu before it spread any further. Damn red shirts didn't know when to pull themselves away from their beloved machinery and get help. 

When the unconscious Captain was lugged in by Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov, McCoy groaned loudly and crossed the room to meet them. There was a large gash across the Captain's chest, thankfully not deep by bleeding profusely, and his right arm was bent in on itself at an ungodly angle. He had Chapel prepare a biobed and began work on his best friend, his Captain, his shit-for-brains little brother by everything but actual blood.  

Jim was stabilized by the end of McCoy's shift, but still out of it due to another concussion. 

McCoy was scrubbing down when he heard Chapel squawking.

"Mister Spock--"

"Nurse, I assure you--"

"--you need to have that--"

"Nurse--"

"--please, come this way, Mr. Spock."

"Spock?" McCoy croaked, closing the gap between the them. They lightly touched fingers as they came together. Spock's hands quivered minutely and had a thin sheen of sweat to them. The scowl that McCoy had worn all shift deepened. Spock's hands were never anything but dry and still as boards. He ushered his partner towards a biobed and ordered him to sit down. Despite the difference in ranks, Spock sat down and complied to everything that McCoy said. Spock knew well enough not to argue with McCoy when he was in Protective Doctor Mode. 

"Doctor McCoy, I can assure you, I am fine." He was complying, not taking it laying down.

"Bullshit and you know it. Why didn't you come earlier?" McCoy scanned him quickly up and down and eyed the results, taking a second to make sure they aligned with Spock's usual stats. "You've lost blood. Where are you injured?"

"Doctor--"

"Where--are--you--injured?"

The smallest of sighs before, "Right thigh."

With practiced medical ease, McCoy disinfected the wounded area and repaired it, watching as the angry green gash was sown up and became nothing more than a minuscule pale green line. 

"Doctor--"

"I'm off shift now, Spock."

"Doctor McCoy, shall we retire to our quarters now?"

The walked together in a relatively comfortable silence. The weight of exhaustion that had been hanging over McCoy's head descended upon him with each and every step. By the time they reached their quarters, McCoy was nearly dead on his feet. They undressed and pulled on their sleepwear before crawling into bed, the sheets a blessed mixture between warm and cool.

"You really should," a yawn, "come to me as soon as you come back from away missions. If you hadn't gotten checked out, you might have bled out or gotten an infection. Vulcans can still get gangrene." McCoy tugged Spock's arms around him and shifted back into Spock's chest. He could feel Spock's heart beating against his hip and he let out a shaky, contented sigh at the familiar feeling. The heat given off by the half Vulcan was comforting and lulling him into sleep, but he fought off the descending black in order to keep talking. "I would have found out eventually--Vulcan blood has a lower iron count than humans but it's still noticeable, so if I didn't see it directly I could have smelled it--"

"Leonard." The Vulcan tightened his arms around his mate and rested his chin between the crook of Leonard's shoulder and neck. His words vibrated softly against McCoy's shoulder blade, giving off a pleasant tickle. "I would have told you before we retired for the night. The Captain required far more attention, so I refrained from adding to your workload until Nurse Chapel intervened." 

Selfless as always. McCoy ran his fingers along the knuckles of Spock's hands, reveling in the soft shiver each touch earned him. "Yeah, well...I worry. Can you blame me? Ship's full of knuckleheads that don't know their own asses from their faces." 

"I assure you, the crew of the Enterprise is more than capable--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Figure of speech." 

A relaxed silence fell over them. Spock's breathing evened out, leading Leonard to believe he had fallen asleep. Thus, he allowed himself to muse aloud. "Don't know what I would do if I lost y'all. Wouldn't know what to do with myself..." He sighed, licking his lips and glancing at the ceiling. "I get worried every time you beam down to some supposedly friendly planet. You come back worse for wear every time, and I'm just...what If I can't...put you back together again?"  He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "I don't even know what goes on down there until the next day. I don't get briefed, not unless I'm goin' down, too. I don't--"

"Would you like to see what transpired?"

The sudden interruption spooked the Doctor. He had thought Spock was asleep. He flushed, grateful for the darkness of the room though Spock could feel it where their skin met. "D'you--"

"A mind meld, yes. I could show you the mission. It would also create a mental bond between us, and you would be able to feel me and assess my wellbeing through my projected emotions and thoughts whenever you so chose." 

"Spock, I...I don't--"

"It is alright, ashayam. I understand your hesitance."

"Some other time, Spock. I promise."  _I'm just not ready for someone else in my head,_  he thought.  _I don't even know how to deal with my own thoughts half the time. You would probably high-tail it as soon as you touched my thoughts..._

Spock sensed the trepidation through their skin contact and pulled Leonard impossibly closer. "I do not wish to pressure you. We will meld when you are ready, no sooner and no later."

\- - -

The second time Spock suggested they meld, the Enterprise was playing hostess for a group of Vulcan scientists. There were seven in total, all clad in thick gray-black robes. Jim and Spock gave them a tour of the Enterprise, showed them to their lodgings and the mess hall, as well as the labs they would be using for experimenting. 

One of the older Vulcans, Silion, received a chemical burn during an experiment and was escorted to Sick Bay. As Doctor McCoy had been treating Spock since receiving his position as the CMO, Silion was directed to a biobed and told to wait for his arrival. A few moments later, McCoy appeared with a PADD and dermal regenerator in hand. The Vulcan retained his regal composure during the entire regenerator procedure. 

After checking over the Vulcan's hand--doing so as gingerly as he could and with gloves--he opened his arm and gestured towards the currently closing doors of the Sick Bay. "You're free to go. I advise you to wear gloves or such next time."

Silion nodded and looked over his hand before rising. He made it three steps from the biobed before he turned and asked, "You are in a relationship with a Vulcan, a half Vulcan--Spock--to be precise, correct?" When the Doctor nodded at him a touch awkwardly, Silion continued. "I can smell him on you, though I cannot sense him, per say. Why have you not bonded?"

McCoy shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I, uh...we--"

"The inquiry was personal. I understand your uneasiness with supplying an answer. I will take my leave." 

And then Silion was gone, his peppery hair and large brown eyes out of sight but still in McCoy's thoughts. Was it really that big of a deal?

At dinner that evening, Spock sensed McCoy's turmoil and asked about it. After listening to Leonard's recounting of the incident, Spock nodded once and said, "Vulcans can sense one another and in a way smell one another, as well. We are all connected, some of us more strongly--the mental bond between mates and kin is the strongest--and we can sense this bond. Silion is an older member of my species and is more inclined to notice the scent of a Vulcan on another being."

McCoy nodded dumbly through Spock's speech, pushing his food around his plate and chewing on his lip. "He gave me a lot of weird looks when I was fixing his hand."

"'Weird looks', Doctor? I can assure you--"

"Y'know what I mean! I can read you, and I read him decently. His eyebrow quirked when I first touched him and furrowed slightly when I removed my hand. It was like he disapproved of your scent on me." 

"Typically after the brief Vulcan courtship, mates are melded. We are currently three months, thirteen days and six hours into our relationship, which is longer than most Vulcans go in a relationship without melding. It is more than likely that he was uncertain as to why we are in a relationship and yet not bonded."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

McCoy continued to push his food around. He distinctly remembered when Spock first asked him to meld last month. He felt the Vulcan wither behind him, a gesture so small that the untrained would have missed it, but McCoy caught it. Just like he caught the unspoken invitation to meld floating between them. It nipped at his brain, his throat and his heart; made his thoughts fuzzy and his mouth dry. 

"Spock, I--"

"Leonard," Spock spoke softly, leaning forward and softly applying to fingers to Leonard's own. The Doctor didn't even notice his hand exposed, the action was so subconscious now. So essential. It was almost more intimate than a human kiss. "As I have said before, you need not fret. We will meld in time, if you wish. We need not meld at all, but I...would appreciate you thinking over my proposition."

\- - -

The topic of mind melds became background noise as the days passed. McCoy didn't bring it up again, and neither did Spock. They were comfortable like this, Leonard figured, laying against the curve of Spock's back one night. He didn't see the need to complicate what they had--this pairing that shouldn't have made sense but did in the most illogical ways.

Maybe one day he would give in. 

Maybe...

\- - -

 McCoy didn't know what was going on, only that it  _hurt._ Everything was alive with a throbbing ache that licked through him like a river of fire. He couldn't assess what had happened to him on the away mission. He couldn't figure out if the other crew that beamed down--Chekov, Jim, Spock--oh God, Spock--

"Leonard.  _Leonard_. I am here. Leonard, listen to my voice. We will get you help. Please, listen to my voice."

 Strong, warm arms-- _familiar, home, Spock_ \--enclosed around him and carried him off. To a safe place, Leonard mused. Spock was safe and home and everything good in Leonard's life. He leaned into the warmth Spock gave off, biting back a wince in order to do so.

 Spock would help him. Spock would  _get_ him help.

 And if Spock couldn't, Leonard wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the entire universe. 

 Spock--

 Leonard smelled blood, the faint iron smell sweeter than usual.

 Spock. Spock was injured.

 "Mm, Spock--Spock, you're hurt--lemme see--" Leonard lifted one of his arms, not able to feel which nor see it, and grunted from the exertion, but he found the source of the blood. Spock's side. "Spock--pu'mme down 'n lemme see--"

 "Please conserve your energy, Leonard." A ruffling at Spock's side and the Vulcan loudly said, "Two to beam up."

 He passed out seconds after hearing Jim whisper, "Oh God,  _Bones_."

 McCoy was in and out of consciousness for two days. They almost lost him twice before finally getting him stabilized. They reattached his left arm, having almost been removed completely, and patched up the hole in his right calf. His eyes, which had been blinded by copious amounts of sand, had to be flushed out three times and worked on twice before they were deemed up to par.

 Spock kept vigil at his mate's bedside nearly the entire time, being dragged out by the Captain and then Uhura to eat and change clothes. He kept his fingers entwined with McCoy's for as long as Chapel and M'Benga would allow him, head bent as he attempted to calm himself and, illogically, will McCoy awake and well.

 When McCoy finally came to, Spock was whispering over his head, their hands together. He refrained from opening his eyes. Spock had played asleep before, so why couldn't he?

 "You are not allowed to leave me. You will wake up and recover fully and return to our quarters so that I may assess you, myself. I am no doctor, but I understand the mechanics of the human anatomy well enough that I could screen you properly. You will tell me you love me and you will promise me to be more careful and more logical in your choice of words when on foreign soil."

 "Spock," Leonard croaked, moved to tears by his mate's words. "Spock, I do love you."

 He felt Spock tense momentarily before the man leaned forward and pressed his lips to McCoy's forehead. "And I love you, as well. Please do not repeat this incident ever again."

 Leonard chuckled softly and coughed. "What happened?"

 "Your attempt to pacify the native species of Lurit II resulted in an attack, which caused a rock slide. I found you beneath the rubble after the situation was amended, and brought you aboard the Enterprise."

 That sounded about right. 

  "I'm sorry. I trip over my tongue sometimes." Spock's hands were so warm. Sick Bay had its usual chill and, unfortunately, Spock would most likely refuse if Leonard asked him to crawl on the tiny biobed to heat him up.

 "Just do not do it again. I...I do not know what I would do if I had lost you." Spock's eyes were the most expressive thing about him, and at the moment his eyes were wide and such a dark brown they were nearly black. Around the iris on every side were caramel flecks, reminding Leonard of the mountains of New Vulcan. 

 "Hey, Spock?"

 "Yes, ashayam?"

 "Meld with me."

 "...Are you positive this is what you want?"

 "Please? I...I'm still, y'know, worried about it...I don't thi--please, do it. Don't let my damn tongue mess up the moment."

 "As you wish." Spock's normally steady hands shook slightly as he aligned his fingers with the PSI points on Leonard's face. He took a deep breath before whispering, "My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts."

 Spock's fingers didn't move, but it felt like they had seeped into Leonard's skull. All gentle pushing and an unexplainable warmth.

At the back of his mind there was a steady buzz building, sometimes louder than others; like the old Terran radio Mama had given him, the one you had to tweak a bit to get it to work. Spock's voice faded in and out for a moment before McCoy felt a slight shift in his thoughts that left him gasping.

 Spock's thoughts were like tidal waves of warmth and love. He could feel it everywhere, from the tips of his fingers to the balls of his feet. Spock felt like the first sunshine of spring, warm and inviting against Leonard's chilled being. He welcomed all that Spock offered to him and felt encased in the radiance of his mate.

 He could hear a voice in his head, though Spock's lips weren't moving. Leonard looked about and was startled to see green grass under his feet and his grandparent's home behind him. He looked around for a moment, checking to see if the front floorboard still squeaked and if the tire swing on the old Maple still held his weight. Then he heard it, a voice loud and pleasant calling his name. A familiar voice.

 Without a moment's hesitation, Leonard went towards it. His grandparent's front yard, their driveway, the creek just a few yards away from the main road, faded into warm golden sand. There were buildings here Leonard didn't recognize but could identify as Vulcan. 

  _Leonard, come to me._

He didn't know how he picked the right house, but as he climbed the flight of stairs and chose the room that just  _felt right_ , he found Spock on a veranda, waiting for him with a full-fledged smile. 

  _Spock. This...this is what's in your head?_

Leonard moved close to him and extended his hand to meet Spock's own. He allowed himself to be pulled in and embraced, wrapping his arms around Spock's waist and taking in everything. Spock's warmth, even here; how the buzz had become  _Spock_  in some way, his thoughts and his memories and his emotions; how the sands of a land McCoy had never seen faded into the green of his grandparent's summer home, and how this meeting seemed nothing but destined to him.

  _Indeed. I must admit, I expected your thoughts to be...more chaotic for a man with such blind vigor and passion, but as they say, there is reason to the madness. Your thoughts are well wound together, revolving around a central thesis and building upon it. Always changing, always moving; fluctuating based on your moral compass. It is most intriguing._

Leonard snorted.  _Glad you like my head._

_I am glad that I have been able to give myself to you fully, Leonard._

_I'm glad I finally said yes. I don't know--yeah, actually I do. I just...I didn't know how this would feel. How much like home it would feel._

_It is our home now, Leonard._

_Yeah. Yeah, it is._

Reluctantly, they ended the meld upon interruption from Kirk. He smirked and wriggled his eyebrows and congratulated them on "making it official". 

Spock merely looked at Jim. When McCoy began laughing, Spock's eyebrow quirked.

 "What?" Jim asked, arms crossing over his chest.

 "He's making fun of you in his head."

 "Spock!"

 "Yes, Captain?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually posted [here](http://hierro-y-sal.livejournal.com/4129.html) on my LJ first, but I figured, why not move it all over?


End file.
